Gratias Astra
by domina tempore
Summary: A special night for Wilf, courtesy of the Doctor and Donna. Set mid-series 4.


**Doctor Who:**_ Gratias Astra_

_by: domina tempore_

_Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all of its characters and locations etc. belong to their respective owners. I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement intended!_

_Summary: A special night for Wilf, courtesy of the Doctor and Donna. Set sometime before "Midnight". _

_Author's Note: Because I flat-out *adore* Wilf. And I promised like, four people a non-tragic (Donna involved) Doctor Who fic for once… So here's for you girls, faithful readers that you are. (:._

_Cheers!_

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"_People think that Orion was just warrior, an archer or whatever; but they're wrong. I mean, look at his stance, his pose! He's clearly a dancer."_

_- Katherine S._

*~_|"|_~*

_gratias astra: "thanks to the stars"_

Wilf had been up on the hill since practically before the sun had started to set, watching the sky. Back during the ATMOS crisis, before Donna had left, she'd promised him that she'd come back today, even if it was only for a little while. So from the minute he got up, he'd been waiting expectantly for her. He'd badgered Sylvia all day, hoping that his granddaughter had called; but she'd only scoffed at him. _"Donna? Please. _She_ never calls anymore."_ He'd stubbornly refused to accept that, telling Sylvia time and again that Donna had _promised_ him that she'd be there, and that she would be. But she'd laughed at him, as she usually did, and paid no attention; and as soon as they'd finished dinner, Wilf had headed up the hill with his telescope to watch for that little blue box.

He'd been up there for several hours now, waiting as patiently as he could; but there was still no sign of her. He tried to distract himself by looking at the stars, searching for something new; but the only things that held his interest for more than a moment were a couple of lonely shooting stars and the constellation of Orion. He'd always liked that one; it was nice and easy to find, even without a telescope. He could see it from anywhere, if he could find those three little stars that made up the belt.

"Here, you're up there in the sky with the rest of them," he said to the constellation as he peered through the eyepiece of his telescope. "You know where my Donna has gone, don't you?" He laughed half-heartedly. "You can remind her to come home to me."

Wilf shook his head. Look at him, talking to the stars as if they could answer him. He was getting old. And after all, why should he expect Donna to come back tonight? She was off with that Doctor man in his little blue box, doing incredible things; she'd probably just forgotten, and he'd get a call from her tomorrow or something. He was sure that it would be an easy enough thing for her to do. If he were out there, flying in the stars, he was sure that he would miss a couple of birthdays himself.

Ah, well. He'd given it a go, anyways.

…But Donna had _never_ missed his birthday before.

Wilf had barely finished with that thought when he heard a familiar, laughing voice coming up the hill. He stood up from his chair so fast that he knocked his thermos over, a wide smile on his face as he spotted two figures making the climb. So she'd remembered after all! And she'd brought the Doctor with her! He could tell it was the Doctor, though his face was nearly obscured by the large wicker basket and pile of blankets that were heaped into his arms. Donna was carrying a second basket on her arm.

"Donna!" He raised his hands above his head and waved at the two of them. She looked up and waved back with her free hand. "Donna, I'm up here!"

"I can see that!" she laughed, quickening her steps. A moment later, she had dumped the basket and rushed into Wilf's opened arms. "I've missed you, Gramps!"

"I've missed you too, sweetheart! I almost thought that you'd forgotten about me today, actually. Not that I wouldn't have understood, mind you; the two of you are out there saving the universe. Don't think that you have to stop all that to bother about me, now. I'm not selfish –"

"Goodness, Gramps! How could I ever forget about your birthday? I promised, didn't I?"

"We would have been up sooner," the Doctor said, having relieved himself of his load and come up behind Donna, "but we stopped at the house first to see if you were still in, and –"

"Ah, say no more!" Wilf nodded knowingly. "She started her nagging, did she?"

"Yeah," the Doctor winced. "Big time."

"She wouldn't even let _him_ in the house," Donna tilted her head back at the Doctor. "He had to sneak in a window to get the blankets and everything while I distracted her. Seriously, though; you'd think that for _once_ she'd be happy to see me."

"She is, I think. But you know your mother; she's never happy unless she has something to complain about, eh? And anyways, you two got up here alright. Come here, son!" He wrapped the Doctor in a hug just as exuberant as the one he'd given Donna. "How are you, now? Have you been taking good care of my granddaughter like you promised?"

"She takes care of me, now. Isn't that right?"

"And don't you forget it," Donna smirked, causing her grandfather to smile.

"Well, you two are perfect for each other," he said, "and no mistake!"

"Gramps!" Donna's cold-reddened cheeks turned another shade darker, and the Doctor coughed uncomfortably. "It's not like _that_."

"Yeah, we're not together."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Wilf had the decency to at least _try_ to look apologetic, but there was still laughter in his eyes. "Well, come on! Grab those blankets, sit down. I'd give you a drink, but…" He gestured helplessly to the spilled thermos.

The Doctor grinned. "What do you think is in the baskets?"

"And it's not just drinks, either." Donna grabbed the baskets and lugged them forward. "This is a party!"

Ten minutes later, they had two blankets spread out, and the content of the baskets was revealed. Hot chocolate, coffee, bananas – something that the Doctor had insisted on – sandwiches, chips, cake, and a handful of balloons that Donna blew up and tied to a leg of the telescope tripod. She grinned at her handiwork.

"There, you see Gramps? A proper party for you; I know that Mum didn't give you one." She dropped down next to him and wrapped herself in one of the extra blankets that they had brought. "So, what'll you have first? Cake or presents?"

"What? Oh, darling, you didn't have to buy me anything! I mean, you're here, and that –"

"Don't be daft; of course I had to!"

"No, really –"

"Why don't we start with dinner then, eh?" the Doctor cut him off, reaching over to claim a large piece of cake for himself. "Presents can come later. Does anybody else want some of this?"

Donna and Wilf served themselves quickly, before the Doctor had a chance to claim the whole rest of the meal for his own. The next few minutes were very quiet; their attention was much more focused on savoring their food than any sort of conversation. But after a while, when they'd eaten most of their fill and were left sipping drinks and nibbling seconds (or thirds) of cake, Donna asked her grandfather what he'd seen lately.

"Anything new up there in the stars?"

"Well, nothing lately," he shrugged. "Saw a couple of shooting stars tonight; and Orion is out! But nothing new. I was hoping for that blue box of yours, actually."

"Yeah, well," the Doctor shifted, "I had to park it down the hill today. Bit obvious, sitting up here for all to see."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Since when is a bloody blue police box _not_ as obvious as an Ood in Chiswick?"

"Hey!"

She ignored his squawk of indignation. "Gramps, where is Orion right now? I'd love to see him again."

"Well, he's right up there," Wilf pointed. "See? There are the three stars that make his belt. And his bow –"

"Orion was a dancer, you know," the Doctor informed them, his voice garbled around a large bite of banana. Donna raised an eyebrow.

"Chew your food, then try again."

He gulped the mouthful down hard. "I said, Orion was a dancer."

"No he wasn't!" Wilf protested, fumbling around in his pockets. "He was an archer! That's what my little book says about him. Look!"

The Doctor sighed, ignoring the little volume being waved under his nose. "Oh sure, he was an archer, too; a hero of ancient time sand all that. But he was also a dancer. I've met him, you know."

Donna snorted. "You've met Orion?"

"I took _you_ to Pompeii, didn't I?"

"But hold on just a minute," Wilf interrupted them. "Even if it's true and you did meet the man, what makes you think that he was a dancer when everybody else agrees that he was an archer?"

"I told you, I've met the man! I talked to him – helped him out of a tight spot or two as well, actually. Besides, just look at how he's standing up there!" The Doctor leaped abruptly to his feet, startling his friends. "The one hand over here by his hip, arm bent like this; the other hand thrown up dramatically over his head, his legs spread apart a bit…" He moved his body into the stance that he was describing. "Bam! A dance pose. Classic!" He held his position, a brilliant smile on his face as he waited for them to agree and compliment him.

Donna burst out laughing.

"What?" The grin slipped from his face to be replaced by a wounded, confused frown. "It's true! I've seen him do it, you know."

"You do know how daft you look standing there like a museum statue, right Spaceman?"

"I don't –" Donna dangled a digital camera in front of him, a smug grin on her face. Beside her, Wilf was laughing.

"She's right you know, Doctor. No offense, but she's right."

"Huh. Well…" The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and Donna snatched the camera back with a yelp.

"Oi! No sonic-ing that picture away, now; I was thinking I might frame it or something. Oh, don't give me that look; I know you think you look dashing."

The Doctor flopped back down onto his corner of the blankets. "I'm still right about him being a dancer," he muttered.

"I'm sure you are," Donna assured him, pocketing the camera. "And I mean it; delete that picture, and –"

"I think maybe we'd better just move on to the presents now," the Doctor said with a sniff. Wilf noticed that he also made no promises regarding the picture. He wisely kept silent, instead trying to talk Donna out of the presents bit.

"Donna, I already told you; you two didn't need to buy me anything! You've already done more than enough." He shook his head helplessly as Donna held out a package, wrapped in colorful, shiny paper. "Really, sweetheart; it's enough that you came to see me today."

"Here," she said, firm but smiling. "Happy birthday, Gramps. Oh, open it. Go on!"

Still mumbling half-heartedly in protest, but unable to refuse his only grandchild, Wilf obeyed. With much exaggerated care, he tore back the wrapping to reveal a leather-bound book with no title on the cover. He looked up at Donna curiously. "What is it?"

"Oh, goodness. Look inside, Gramps."

It was a photo album. Wilf flipped through the first few pages, but the pictures weren't of any places that he recognized; any people he knew either, except for Donna and the Doctor. He looked up again.

"What –?"

"Those are pictures of us," Donna stated the obvious, "and of almost all the places that he's taken me. The worlds we've saved. All those stars, Gramps." She glanced up at the sky, then back at his face. "I brought as much of them back for you as I could. Do you like it?"

It took Wilf a few moments to be able to speak through the tears that he'd found were filling his eyes of their own accord. "You did all that for me?" he asked finally.

"She insisted," the Doctor said, glancing fondly at Donna. "I won't tell you how many times my hearts almost stopped when her camera flashed in my face unexpectedly. All nearly as flattering as the Orion picture, of course…" He trailed off when he realized that Wilf wasn't listening.

"Thank you, Donna," he whispered. She wrapped him in a hug.

"Happy birthday, Gramps," she said again.

"You know," the Doctor tried again once Donna released Wilf, "I've got sort of a present for you, too…"

"Oh, hold on a minute!" Wilf interrupted, wiping at his tears. "I want to hear about some of theses places, in the stars. Tell me the stories about all of these pictures. Please?' Sighing, the Doctor agreed, and the next hour or so was devoted to storytelling as the Doctor and Donna laughed, interrupted, and talked over each other in an effort to tell Wilf both sides of every story. He managed to make them go through nearly ever picture before he was satisfied.

Finally, though, the Doctor grew impatient. "Can I please give you my gift, now?" he asked. "It's sort of particular and time-sensitive, and a little bit wibbly-wobbly."

Wilf signed. "You too? Doctor, you of all people should have known that you didn't need to buy me anything. What you've done for this whole planet, for my family in particular; you've done more than enough."

"Oh, just listen to him, Gramps!" Donna begged. "You'll love it, I promise. Doctor?" She looked expectantly at him, and Wilf followed her gaze.

"Go on" he said. "What are you waiting for?"

"But, I – you – oh, fine." The Doctor gave a long-suffering sigh. "Wilfred Mott, where would you like to go? Pick a place, anywhere, anywhen in time and space. I want to give you a trip on the TARDIS." Wilf gasped, and the Doctor grinned broadly. "There, see? I knew you'd like that. You should have let me say it sooner."

"You mean, you're going to take me somewhere in your little blue box? Your spaceship?"

"Hey! She's a time-machine, thank you very much. And she's rather sensitive, so I wouldn't go around calling her a spaceship while you're onboard."

"You get used to it," Donna whispered, earning a look from the Doctor. She gave him an innocent smile.

"So you can take me anywhere?" Wilf asked, managing to look ecstatic and confused and a little faint all at the same time. "Anywhere at all?"

"Any time, any place, any planet," the Doctor assured him. "Occupational perk. So, pick someplace! We've got all the time in the world."

"Well, I –"

"_Dad!_" The three of them cringed.

"She's found us," Wilf muttered dramatically. "It's all over now."

"Yeah, maybe we'd better take a rain check on that trip," the Doctor decided. "But that offer is still open, Wilf; one day, you're going to get your trip on the TARDIS."

"Thank you." He shook the Doctor's hand warmly, and then Sylvia was upon them. She gasped when she saw the Doctor.

"You!" she pointed. "I thought – _you_!"

"Cake?" He offered, holding up the last slice. She stormed forward. "Alright, fine, we'll eat the cake."

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "And with my blankets, too? I thought I told you to get out of here."

"Well, technically, you just wanted me out of your house."

"Well, now I want you off my hill! Donna, why would you bring him up here?"

Donna dumped an armful of stuff into one of the baskets and stood up to face her mother. "We were just having a little party for Granddad," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "We would have invited you, too; but you didn't seem too interested…"

"Now, you watch your attitude, madam!"

"Yeah, 'cos it's my _attitude_ that's the problem."

"Now, Donna. Don't make her angry," the Doctor warned. He'd used the distraction to finish packing up the baskets, and had gathered them both into his arms. "She did give you tea, earlier." Donna glanced at him; he had a look of suppressed terror on his face, and was already starting to edge away. "Why don't you just call it even?" Belatedly, she understood.

"I'm sorry, Mum," she said, giving Sylvia a peck on the cheek. "I'll plan it better, next time." She turned around and hugged her Wilf quickly, then sprinted down the hill after the Doctor. "Love you both!" she called back over her shoulder.

"Now wait just a minute! You get right back here, this instant! Donna!"

"Go on, sweetheart!" Wilf cheered Donna on, waving his hat. "You go on, hurry up before she catches you! And thank you!"

Sylvia glared at him, but made no move to run down the hill; her shoes weren't made for that. With a defeated smirk, she watched her daughter and that mad Doctor disappear into the night, laughing over their successful escape. "Love you, too," she muttered. Then she turned to her father. "When you're done up here, bring all these blankets back down and put them with the washing. Don't stay up here too late, now."

"I won't," Wilf promised to her retreating back. When she was gone, he glanced up at the sky and winked at the stars. "Thank you," he whispered to Orion. Then he gathered up all of his things as well, and headed back to the house.

_fin._

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_A/N: I am NOT satisfied with the ending of this fic… up until that point I'd got all of the images in my head out sort of the way I wanted them, but I killed the last scene terribly. But on the whole, I had a lot of fun with this, and I guess I like it (:. It just about tripled in length from what I originally intended. But I as I said, I adore Wilf and Donna, and once I started, it took on sort of a life of its own. It took me the better part of a day to finish (seeing as happy!fic really isn't my strongest point at the moment…)... The quote at the beginning, about Orion being a dancer, is something that a friend of mine actually said to me once a long time ago; and it struck me recently as something that the Doctor might say. I couldn't resist… (:0. _

_Thanks for reading! :D _


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